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Kind of a trope-ish fight, but... In any case, skip to the end for the match!
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The boat creaked as it approached the shoreline.
It was a large, weathered old ship of decades past, decomissioned from its original military purposes when current advancements in technology made it largely obsolete, but still relevant enough to be a cheap way to travel. Passengers were brought from across the sea to America in pursuit of opportunity. The situation in the old country wasn't good for most of those desperate-eyed men and women; they sought refuge from poverty and war. This was an opportunity for a new future.
As the ship's prow broke through the last meters of water that separated it from its landing point, orders and alerts were barked to the sailors and passengers. Gather their luggage, prepare themselves for boarding. They had come to their new home. Luckily for him, the cowled stranger travelled lightly, and he barely needed anything to live by. With a leather bag strapped to his back, he silently followed the rest of the crowd down to the docks. With just a few hours of sleep and a mo after a generous tip to a discreet innkeeper by the more recluse part of the town, a modest meal was all that the stranger took before he once again took the road, going alongside a caravan as a hired guard. His solid frame, politeness and visible, if unorthodox weaponry made for a convincing offer.
The journey took just a few days less than two weeks before they came close to the region of Fairmont, finally arriving at their destination. The stranger refused his pay, stating that the protection he received alone and the privilege of travelling by horse made the offer good enough as it was. He, in truth, wasn't attempting to be polite. He truly didn't care about the money, and only cared for the fact that they made his travels shorter, less tiring and safer. He needed all safety and energy he could muster for his following task.
Once in Fairmont, he set up camp outside of the city and spent the last few hours of sunlight preparing himself, scouting ahead and chatting with the townsfolk. Luckily, the corruption hadn't set yet, and if he was quick, he could avoid the suffering that would surely follow by its presence. He only took himself to action when the dawn was merely one or two hours away.
Travelling through the wilderness was easier said than done, but the full moon helped by the pale light it gleamed with, and the man was used to the baten side paths that so often appeared in somewhat visited wilds, especially those that lacked any dense vegetation. It didn't take too long until he found his objective: A wide cave, of unusually cold air and a foul stench that suggested rotten flesh. With a momentaneous grimace, the stranger thrust himself into the dark.
The cave was wide and, in the absence of light, could be thought of as a mere cove for a wild predator, with that putrid scent in the air. But the stranger knew how to see in the dark, and he could see the human bones, the regal, if sparse, wooden furniture that decorated the place, the vials of scarlet fluid.
And the coffin in the center of the room.
With quiet steps, the stranger approached the coffin, his right hand clasping a wooden stake. His hand slowly raised to a hammer grip, and when close enough, he suddenly lunged to the coffin, his wooden stake ready to strike...
... But there was nothing. The padded, violet interior had nothing inside. The stranger paused, having considered the hypothesis. Before he could turn around, what he feared that would happen came to be:
- You are no normal human, are you?
The stranger turned around, facing a man who stood against the pale moon at the cave's entrance. A tall, lithe man of elegant demeanor, clothed in fine silk and of a noble, if fierce expression. However, merely being close to that man and acknowledging him made the stranger sick. A sickly aroma of blood tinted the air. His hand moved quickly, and he grasped the crossbow installed by his belt, not yet drawing it, but ready to do so, a bolt preemptively loaded.
- Rakosi. - The stranger spoke, a raspy voice that carried more weight and age than his body suggested. - I have been searching for you, old devil. I thought you had disappeared more than a century ago.
- And I see you are a Helsing. - Rakosi's voice echoed distastefully, as if he had just savoured expired food. - The pests of your line have troubled many of my kind in the old country. I thought that, here, I might have some peace by being away from the likes of you. Sadly, I can see that flies follows man wherever they go.
- All that the people of my family have done was to purge the world from the wickedness you so willingly perpetrate, you fiend. - Van Helsing claimed, finally unclasping the crossbow and readying it, the aim ready at Rakosi's head, who still stood, with arms crossed, paying as much attention to the crossbow as one would pay to a toy gun wielded by a kid. - I've heard you met Dracula in England, that you had returned to activity. I followed your tracks, hoping that it was just some deluded fool that did something foolish rather than a century-old legend that terrorized people from the times of my grandfathers. Turns out I'll be part of the legend, as the punctuation that marks the ending.
- You truly are a deluded fool through and through. - Rakosi claimed, his eyes glinting in red, finally uncrossing his arms, his posture that of a feral beast. - You think you can match me, mortal? Thus far you had the luck of facing lowly abominations and creatures of the night - but today, you face a king! A master of darkness! I'll feed on your blood and make you my servant! Prepare for the end of your career, Helsing!
-----------
Van Helsing
V.S.
Bela Rakosi
The fight takes place on a large, dark cave with furniture and some rocky obstacles, but mostly open. They start 20 meters apart.
RULES:
1. Base Movie version for Van Helsing, and he isn't allowed to transform.
2. If needed, speed may be equalized, but I don't think it should be necessary.
3. SBA otherwise.
--------
The boat creaked as it approached the shoreline.
It was a large, weathered old ship of decades past, decomissioned from its original military purposes when current advancements in technology made it largely obsolete, but still relevant enough to be a cheap way to travel. Passengers were brought from across the sea to America in pursuit of opportunity. The situation in the old country wasn't good for most of those desperate-eyed men and women; they sought refuge from poverty and war. This was an opportunity for a new future.
As the ship's prow broke through the last meters of water that separated it from its landing point, orders and alerts were barked to the sailors and passengers. Gather their luggage, prepare themselves for boarding. They had come to their new home. Luckily for him, the cowled stranger travelled lightly, and he barely needed anything to live by. With a leather bag strapped to his back, he silently followed the rest of the crowd down to the docks. With just a few hours of sleep and a mo after a generous tip to a discreet innkeeper by the more recluse part of the town, a modest meal was all that the stranger took before he once again took the road, going alongside a caravan as a hired guard. His solid frame, politeness and visible, if unorthodox weaponry made for a convincing offer.
The journey took just a few days less than two weeks before they came close to the region of Fairmont, finally arriving at their destination. The stranger refused his pay, stating that the protection he received alone and the privilege of travelling by horse made the offer good enough as it was. He, in truth, wasn't attempting to be polite. He truly didn't care about the money, and only cared for the fact that they made his travels shorter, less tiring and safer. He needed all safety and energy he could muster for his following task.
Once in Fairmont, he set up camp outside of the city and spent the last few hours of sunlight preparing himself, scouting ahead and chatting with the townsfolk. Luckily, the corruption hadn't set yet, and if he was quick, he could avoid the suffering that would surely follow by its presence. He only took himself to action when the dawn was merely one or two hours away.
Travelling through the wilderness was easier said than done, but the full moon helped by the pale light it gleamed with, and the man was used to the baten side paths that so often appeared in somewhat visited wilds, especially those that lacked any dense vegetation. It didn't take too long until he found his objective: A wide cave, of unusually cold air and a foul stench that suggested rotten flesh. With a momentaneous grimace, the stranger thrust himself into the dark.
The cave was wide and, in the absence of light, could be thought of as a mere cove for a wild predator, with that putrid scent in the air. But the stranger knew how to see in the dark, and he could see the human bones, the regal, if sparse, wooden furniture that decorated the place, the vials of scarlet fluid.
And the coffin in the center of the room.
With quiet steps, the stranger approached the coffin, his right hand clasping a wooden stake. His hand slowly raised to a hammer grip, and when close enough, he suddenly lunged to the coffin, his wooden stake ready to strike...
... But there was nothing. The padded, violet interior had nothing inside. The stranger paused, having considered the hypothesis. Before he could turn around, what he feared that would happen came to be:
- You are no normal human, are you?
The stranger turned around, facing a man who stood against the pale moon at the cave's entrance. A tall, lithe man of elegant demeanor, clothed in fine silk and of a noble, if fierce expression. However, merely being close to that man and acknowledging him made the stranger sick. A sickly aroma of blood tinted the air. His hand moved quickly, and he grasped the crossbow installed by his belt, not yet drawing it, but ready to do so, a bolt preemptively loaded.
- Rakosi. - The stranger spoke, a raspy voice that carried more weight and age than his body suggested. - I have been searching for you, old devil. I thought you had disappeared more than a century ago.
- And I see you are a Helsing. - Rakosi's voice echoed distastefully, as if he had just savoured expired food. - The pests of your line have troubled many of my kind in the old country. I thought that, here, I might have some peace by being away from the likes of you. Sadly, I can see that flies follows man wherever they go.
- All that the people of my family have done was to purge the world from the wickedness you so willingly perpetrate, you fiend. - Van Helsing claimed, finally unclasping the crossbow and readying it, the aim ready at Rakosi's head, who still stood, with arms crossed, paying as much attention to the crossbow as one would pay to a toy gun wielded by a kid. - I've heard you met Dracula in England, that you had returned to activity. I followed your tracks, hoping that it was just some deluded fool that did something foolish rather than a century-old legend that terrorized people from the times of my grandfathers. Turns out I'll be part of the legend, as the punctuation that marks the ending.
- You truly are a deluded fool through and through. - Rakosi claimed, his eyes glinting in red, finally uncrossing his arms, his posture that of a feral beast. - You think you can match me, mortal? Thus far you had the luck of facing lowly abominations and creatures of the night - but today, you face a king! A master of darkness! I'll feed on your blood and make you my servant! Prepare for the end of your career, Helsing!
-----------
Van Helsing
V.S.
Bela Rakosi
The fight takes place on a large, dark cave with furniture and some rocky obstacles, but mostly open. They start 20 meters apart.
RULES:
1. Base Movie version for Van Helsing, and he isn't allowed to transform.
2. If needed, speed may be equalized, but I don't think it should be necessary.
3. SBA otherwise.
